


Clouds and Starlight

by ApartmentGhost



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Appendicitis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Sickfic, Surgery, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28642857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApartmentGhost/pseuds/ApartmentGhost
Summary: Micah wasn't expecting to find someone in the back of a supply closet, but he's not about to leave a sick Catra there alone
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Micah (She-Ra)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 179





	Clouds and Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess I write fanfiction now. Welp.
> 
> I just wanted to write a simple sickfic, but instead, this *gestures at everything* happened. There's way more emotion and stuff than I planned for, so I hope it worked out. Enjoy
> 
> Warning for vomiting, but I tried to keep it non-graphic.
> 
> Edits 1/18: I finally reread my own work and caught a few typos that I missed while editing. Just cleaning that up.

"...Glimmer will teleport us in, and we'll meet Mermista just outside of the affected area. It's probably just an energy surge causing some of the tech to malfunction, but we should be cautious, just in case there's something else going on that's causing these outages." Bow pushed a few buttons on his tablet, projecting a topographical map with several illuminated regions onto the table that everyone was gathered around. It wavered around a tray of muffins someone had set out. 

Catra poked at her breakfast (she hoped that if she pushed her food around enough times, no one would notice that she hadn't actually eaten any of it) while Bow outlined the mission specs. 

A few towns in Salineas had gone dark suddenly during the night, and while Mermista and her royal guards had been able to confirm that the people there were safe, no communication signals were able to get in or out, and all other tech inside the zones was spotty at best. Or something to that effect. Catra hadn't exactly paid much attention to the infodump that had been poured on them since she and the princesses were pulled from their beds at way-too-early-o'clock in the morning. Not that she'd been getting much sleep anyway. 

Her stomach churned, staring at the untouched muffin on her plate as Glimmer and Frosta argued over the last muffin still on the serving tray. The others scattered around the table, likewise, carried on conversations that were way too chipper considering the sun was barely up. Why did everything have to be so loud with this group? Admittedly, she had gotten much more comfortable around the other princesses since the end of the war. She'd even begun to enjoy the times, like this week, when some or all of them visited Brightmoon. But this morning, she had more pressing matters to focus on instead of catching up. Namely, trying not to throw up all over the war/breakfast table. 

"I think I'm going to sit this one out," she announced, pushing back her plate (she saw Glimmer eyeing the untouched muffin, and angled it in her direction). 

Everyone's eyes snapped towards her at the announcement. The sudden rush of self-consciousness was not helping the churning in her stomach. "You're going to the ocean kingdom," she reasoned, aiming for a nonchalant tone, but her eyes darted to Adora, unconsciously pleading for her to back her up. "I hate water. Besides, Adora's always pestering me to take a break every once in a while. This seems like a good time to take her up on it."

"Yeah, no, that's totally fine," Adora stammered quickly. The look on her face dared anyone to challenge her. 

"Take Melog if you need to," Catra offered. "They're good at stealth, so if Entrapta's bots break down, you can have them scout ahead."

The others muttered in agreement. Bow started punching buttons again as he accounted for the change in lineup, but otherwise, the plan was mostly unchanged. 

As the preparations devolved once again into aimless chatter, Catra slipped out of the room and returned to bed. 

\-------------------------------  
\-------------------------------

Catra was asleep. Adora checked on her before she left, but didn't want to wake her. She'd tossed and turned all night, so Adora was glad that she was finally getting some sleep. She could use the rest. They'd all been busy in the months since defeating Horde Prime, but Catra in particular threw herself into the rebuilding efforts as if she had something to prove. Which, in Catra's mind, Adora knew, she did. Catra confessed to her one night that in every village they helped clean up, she searched for some familiar element that would help her remember if this was one that she had personally torn through. 

The fact that she had, personally, torn through a few of these villages had caused a great deal of tension. But, having She-Ra to vouch for her helped temper some of the animosity, and the sheer tenacity with which Catra threw herself into the rebuilding efforts helped temper the rest. A full day of digging through rubble and raising building frames left her exhausted, even when she did most of it as She-Ra, but Catra still managed to be the first one on site and the last one to leave. She hated the implication that Catra felt the need to put herself through such a rough penance, but she couldn't deny the warming attitudes of the villagers towards the former Horde captain. Plus, there was an obvious satisfaction that Catra took in the work, and it was spilling over into the rest of her recovery. Something about having a positive outlet to channel her energy into, according to Perfuma. Adora just wanted her to be happy. 

She pulled the door closed as quietly as she could and let the girl rest. 

\-------------------------------  
\-------------------------------

Catra wasn't sure what time it was when she leapt from the bed, barely making it to the adjoined bathroom in time before hurling the meager contents of her stomach into the toilet. Whatever time it was, it was way past sunrise, and the large stained glass windows of their quarters made it way too bright in here. She leaned against the porcelain bowl, eyes pinched shut, as a spike of pain pushed through her abdomen. 

Ugh. She ran a mental list of the things served for dinner last night, trying to find the best candidate for what appeared to be food poisoning. Wrong Hordak had been tagging along with the kitchen staff while Entrapta was visiting, so she'd bet it was probably something he had a hand in. His culinary attempts were enthusiastic, but still questionable at best. Not that she'd eaten much last night. Most of what she spit up was bile, she realized, grabbing a towel to wipe her face with. That, or maybe one of the kitchen staff had actually tried to poison her. Probably not. She and Adora had a known tendency to eat off of each other's plates as they picked through new meals to identify the things they each liked, and no matter how much anyone might hate her, they would never dare risk hurting their beloved She-Ra. Still, she considered, as the thought of food made her stomach lurch again, maybe she'd stick to the stash of simple ration bars that she had hidden under her bed for the next few days. 

Satisfied that she was done vomiting, at least for now, she rinsed her mouth out and stumbled back out to the bedroom. She slumped down along the side of the bed, pulling a blanket down to cover her shoulders. Her stomach _hurt_. She curled in on herself as waves of pain radiated from her core.

All Catra wanted was to find somewhere small and dark and protected, and sleep off the worst of it so that she could get back to work before anyone noticed. That's what she did the few times she was sick growing up. Sickness was weakness, in the Fright Zone, and that was something the Horde didn't tolerate. The other cadets assumed that the reason she so rarely got sick had to do with her unique biology, but the truth was, she'd just learned to power through any feelings of unwellness that arose. The few times she did end up sick enough to knock her down, she'd just tuck herself into some hidden corner, ride out the worst of it in privacy while Adora covered for her absence, and then pull herself back together before anyone could deride her for a lack of effort. 

She shivered against the blanket. She shifted slowly. She couldn't get comfortable, and it wasn't just the ache below her navel. She felt exposed, jumpy. The room was too open, too bright. The stained glass windows cast down too many dizzying colors, the fountain gurgled too loudly. Footsteps passed by in the hallway, and she flinched back as if she expected someone to come in and find her like this. This wasn't a safe place to be sick. She needed to be somewhere else. 

Bracing herself against the bed, she pulled herself to standing. She moved slow, feeling shaky, having to take a pause halfway up as another wave of pain interrupted her efforts. She grabbed the walls as she moved, one foot slowly in front of the other, all her usual grace abandoned. 

Somehow, she traveled through the halls uninterrupted. Maybe she'd gotten better at keeping up with the guard rotations, maybe she just got lucky. There was too much fog in her head at that moment for her to really tell the difference.

She eventually found the right spot. It looked like an old storage closet, but whatever was stored in these boxes apparently hadn't been needed in a long time. The layer of dust and slight musty smell made her feel strangely at home, which would probably be concerning if she ever admitted that out loud to anyone else here, but right now she'd take any bit of comfort she could find. 

Catra lowered herself in between two stacks of boxes, and let go of her tenuous grip on consciousness. 

\--------------------------------  
\--------------------------------

Micah grumbled as he pushed his way into yet another storage closet. Now that Etheria was well on it's way to recovery, he'd taken it upon himself to take inventory of the remaining emergency supplies, in order to identify what could be distributed when emergencies arose, and what needed to be resupplied in anticipation of said emergencies. 

Unfortunately, this process was slowed by the fact that the organizational system in place had apparently been dramatically overhauled in the years he had been gone. Despite knowing the palace like the back of his hand, he couldn't find _anything_. It left him feeling lost in the weirdest of ways. 

He shoved a box that unfortunately did _not_ contain the powercells he was looking for back on the shelf, and was about to try the next room on his list, when a bit of movement from the back of the room caught his eye. 

A shield array was halfway formed in his hand before he recognized the figure, and the shock turned to worry as he looked at her in the light of the orb he changed it into to illuminate the room. It was Catra, one hand shielding her eyes as she blinked at the sudden light, a blanket wrapped loosely around her body, and looking about as well as one would expect someone you found hiding in the back of a closet to look. Which was to say, the more he looked, the greater his initial worry grew. 

They stared each other down for a moment before he interrupted the awkward silence. "What are you doing in here?"

"Napping, duh." Her voice sounded off, lacking the energy that her banter normally had. 

"Interesting choice."

"The rest of the palace is too bright." She glared at him as if that was personally his fault. He dimmed the light in his hand. As she stopped squinting, he noticed that her heterochromatic eyes looked glassy and unfocused. 

"Are you alright?" he asked. 

"'m fine," she grumbled. "Little tired. Just want to rest, which would be a lot easier if you would leave."

Something in his gut told him not to. 

"Uhhg," she grumbled, a little bit of the attitude he had come to expect from her returning. "If you're not going to leave, I am." She started to stand, but only made it about halfway up before stumbling. Micah grabbed her elbow to steady her. She pulled back, and slid down against the wall to huddle in the same spot as before. 

With the blanket previously wrapped around her now dropped to the floor, he could see that she had an arm wrapped tightly around her midsection. 

"Are you hurt?" His face pinched with worry, and he reached towards her, fearing what he might find when he pulled her hand back. 

He didn't make it that far, as she once again jerked back from his touch. 

"I'm _fine_ ," she growled. "I'm just..."

Her face paled and her sentence trailed off, and he had just enough time to grab a box from the shelf and shove it in her lap before she was gagging into it.

_"...sick,"_ she admitted. Her voice sounded defeated.

She pushed the box out of her lap, and pushed herself further back into the corner. Her face was flushed, her eyes wet. Without her usual bravado, he realized just how small she was. She looked vulnerable. She looked terrified. 

He lowered himself to the ground, motions deliberate and well telegraphed. He stayed just out of arms reach, careful to leave a clear path towards the door. If his suspicions were correct, the last thing he wanted to do was corner her. 

"You know," he started, voice soft, "I got really sick, once, on Beast Island. Got attacked by something that turned out to be venomous. I could barely move for three days. I holed myself up in a hollow tree and hoped that nothing else would be able to break in before I was strong enough to fight them off." He watched her for any sign of reaction, but she just stared at the knees she had pulled up to her chest. "The palace isn't full of predators. You don't have to hide away."

Her brow furrowed. 

"You don't," he repeated. "If you're sick, you need help. You should be in bed. Or in the infirmary."

"I said I'm fine. Besides, I barely even threw anything up," she muttered. "Check the box yourself if you want."

"I'll take your word for it," he grimaced. "But, that makes me more worried. When was the last time you ate or drank anything?"

"Last night," she answered. "A little."

"How long have you been sick?"

She didn't answer.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong," he added in what Glimmer had dubbed his 'dad voice'. 

Either the voice or the suggestion that he might go away if she cooperated worked, and she answered. "Vomiting." She gestured to the discarded box. "Stomach hurts. I feel hot, but also kind of cold."

"That sounds like a fever," he nodded. "Your stomach hurts. Like nausea?"

She shook her head. "No, it's more of a sharper pain. Around here." She gestured to her side.

His own stomach dropped as he started to suspect what might be wrong with her. "Can I try something?" he asked, gesturing towards her. She faltered for a moment, but nodded her consent as she uncurled herself. "This might hurt. Tell me if this makes it worse." He gently pushed down on her stomach where she had indicated, and released.

She gasped, and suddenly, his own face flared in pain as she left a row of claw marks across his cheek.

She curled back in on herself, face pinched tight and breath ragged. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" she stammered.

"It's okay," he reassured, gingerly dabbing at the wound "Barely a scratch." He wiped the faint bit of blood off of his fingers onto his pants as he knelt back down by Catra. "You, though, I'm worried about. I really think you need to go to the infirmary"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here."

"Catra, if this is what I think it is, it could be really bad. You might need surgery and it's only going to get worse."

"No."

"Do I need to get Adora?" he cajoled. 

"She's not here," Catra countered. "I'll just wait for her. If I'm still feeling sick when she gets back, I'm sure she'll drag me there herself, but I'm not going alone. At least with _She-Ra_ there I don't have to worry about anybody trying anything."

He didn't miss the implication that the girl was scared of someone hurting her while she was down, but knowing what little he did about the girl's past, he wasn't surprised.

"This isn't the Horde. We take care of people when they're sick. No one's going to come after you just because you're unwell."

"Yes they will! They hate me!" He could hear the growing panic in her voice.

"Nobody here hates you..." he reassured.

"Really?" she challenged. "Nobody? Nobody here hates me for the things I've done?"

She stared down at her hands, now open in front of her.

"I hurt so many people, and..."

"And now you're doing everything you can to help them," he finished. 

He cupped her cheek and raised her face away from whatever ghost of a memory she was staring at. He could feel the heat radiating off of her. There were tears streaking her face. He wondered how much of this fear was fever-fueled paranoia, and how much of this was simmering issues that she should discuss with someone much more qualified to address them than him, but there was at least one worry he could assuage right now. 

"Nobody will try anything with me there, either."

"What?"

"I'll come with you and make sure you're safe, if that's what you're worried about."

She met his eyes and whispered, "Why don't you hate me?"

The question hit him like a punch to the gut. 

"I have no reason to."

"But I—"

"You made mistakes," he assured. "You were desperate. I'm not ignorant to the things you did, but I'm not going to hold them against you when everything I've seen shows me that you've changed. You helped us win this war. You saved my daughter. I got to see my baby girl again because of you. I could never hate you after that."

" _She's_ gone because of me."

Even without saying her name, he still felt his heart clench at the reminder of the reunion he didn't get to have.

"I don't blame you for that," he whispered, "and neither would she."

"It hurts," she sobbed, and Micah knew that she meant more than just the pain in her side.

Which, speaking of, was still a very pressing issue here, emotional turmoil aside. He hoped she would be willing to talk all of this through with someone when she wasn't in a fever-daze, because Catra was doubled over again, crying out in pain.

"Please let me help you," he implored. "You don't have to do this alone." This time, she nodded, and before she could even try to stand up again, he had her scooped up in his arms. 

\--------------------------------  
\--------------------------------

It didn't take long for the Brightmoon doctors to confirm what Micah had feared. Appendicitis.

He sat with Catra as they prepped the surgical ward, gently rubbing her shoulder while the pain meds kicked in. Catra was jumpy; the lights, sounds, and smells of the infirmary were even more overwhelming than her room had been this morning, but his touch helped ground her. 

He even vetted the surgical team that would be working on her. It would be impossible to find anyone who was completely unaffected by the Horde's assaults, but he at least made sure that none of them had been personally affected by Catra's actions during her time as a Force Captain. 

Micah stood at one point, speaking softly with the palace guard peeking through the door before returning to the chair by her bed.

"The others just called in. They're on their way back."

Before she could respond, the opposite door opened, and the doctor entered. "The room is prepped. We'll be taking you back in just a few minutes."

Catra's pleading eyes met Micah's. 

"Can't we wait for them?"

Micah shot a glance at the doctor, who gave a gentle shake of his head. Micah repeated the action. "The longer we wait, the more likely things are going to get worse. If it bursts, the surgery and recovery are going to be much rougher."

He brushed the hair off of her furrowed brow. "I'll let them know what happened. They'll be here when you wake up."

He started to pull his hand back, but Catra reached out to grab his wrist. "Wait. Stay with me? Until they take me back?"

He adjusted his arm to properly hold her smaller hand. "Of course."

And he did. 

\--------------------------------  
\--------------------------------

"Catra!" Adora bounded into the palace, calling for her friend. "You'll never guess what happened!"

Nothing. The entryway stood quiet. 

"Catra." Adora kept her voice low as she peeked into their bedroom. The blankets were rumpled, but the spot where she had last seen the other girl was empty. 

"Catra?" Concern crept into Adora's voice as she left the room. She moved through the halls, speed increasing as her worry grew. 

She rounded a corner, practically running by this point, and was brought to an abrupt stop as she collided with someone. She stumbled back, and as she looked up, realized who it was she ran into. King Micah. "Oh, your majesty. Sorry," she stammered. "Have you see Catra? I've been looking all over for her, but she's not in our room, and I can't find her, and I'm worried—"

Micah cut off her frantic rambling with a hand to her shoulder. "Catra's okay. She's in surgery. I was just coming to find you—"

"How are those two things synonymous?" Bow questioned as he and Glimmer caught up to Adora. Adora, however, was already running off again.

With a huff, Glimmer grabbed Bow and her dad by the arms, and teleported. They landed in front of the infirmary entrance right as Adora came careening towards the door. She crashed into them, leaving all four in a heap on the ground. Micah explained what happened as they untangled themselves from the pile. 

"...last I checked, she was still in surgery, but she should be out soon if you want to go in and wait for her."

Adora nodded, and Micah pushed open the door for her to walk in.

"Good, because I promised you'd be there."

\--------------------------------  
\--------------------------------

Catra woke up slowly. Bits of her consciousness reluctantly pieced themselves back together. She felt _off_. Vaguely, she remembered being in pain, and their was a heavy feeling in her abdomen that suggested she wasn't completely healed, but overall, she just felt kind of floaty. She didn't like it. The rest of her senses filtered in: a steady, electrical beeping; harsh white lights seeping through her eyelids; the sharp scent of antiseptic. None of these revelations seemed good.

Then, she noticed one more thing. There was a hand wrapped around her own. Strong, calloused. Gentle. Familiar. Grounding. It kept the remaining sensation from overwhelming her. She couldn't possibly be somewhere bad if Adora was here with her. 

She finally accepted consciousness, and pried her eyes open. The first thing she saw was a mess of blonde hair. Adora, apparently sleeping in a chair next to the infirmary bed, head nestled in the space alongside Catra's chest. Her hair was mussed, and she looked a little roughed up, but she breathed steady. There was a puddle of drool on the sheets. 

Looking past her girlfriend, she saw a second, unexpected figure. King Micah, sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the small recovery suite. 

"Feeling better?"

"What are you doing here?" Catra asked, not unkindly. Her memories of the day (assuming it was still the same day; there was a small curtained window on the wall that didn't seem to be letting in much light) were fuzzy. She remembered being sick. She remembered being in a closet. She remembered talking to someone. Her clearest memory was of rubbing her snotty nose against his shoulder as she cried. 

Oh, yeah.

"I promised I'd be here, didn't I?"

"I think you promised Adora would be here."

"Well, I came through on that, too, didn't I?" He chuckled, nodding to the snoring girl beside her. He scooched his chair closer. the leg scraped against the floor with a sharp squeal, and Adora's head shot up from the bed.

"Catra!" Adora cried, face panicked, but quickly settling into a smile she focused on Catra.

"Hey, Adora."

\--------------------------------  
\--------------------------------

Micah slipped out as Adora fussed over her girlfriend. 

There was a policy limiting the number of visitors allowed at a time, so Glimmer and Bow were waiting outside, propped up against each other on the hallway floor outside the infirmary. He watched them both slip in as he exited; he hoped the staff would let it slide. 

He stopped back by the infirmary a few hours later. He peaked his head into the now darkened room, and was surprised to find it mostly empty. Catra was still there, propped up on a mass of pillows. She didn't exactly look comfortable, but she at least didn't look like she was about to dart, which considering how he found her earlier, was progress.

"Where is everyone?" He hadn't expected to find her alone.

At his voice, a large catlike figure poked their shimmery head up from the chair pressed up against the bed. So maybe she wasn't completely alone, but still...

"Glimmer convinced Adora that she should head back to our room and get it ready for when the doctors release me in the morning, and she fell asleep halfway through making the bed. Then Bow convinced Glimmer that she should go get some rest, and when he started nodding off in the chair, I told him to go to bed, too."

"Want some company?"

"You don't have to—"

"That's not what I asked." 

He saw some of the tension drop from her shoulders. "Sure."

Melog shrunk down, hopping from the chair to the bed, where they curled up against Catra's side. 

"About earlier..." She trailed off.

"It's alright. I get it. You don't just go from 'high alert' to 'okay' overnight. But there _are_ people on your side. Adora. Glimmer and Bow. The other princesses. Me. We can help, if you'll let us."

"I was mostly talking about all the snot I got on your shirt," she teased, but her voice grew more serious as she continued, "But...I know. I'm working on it. Some days are just harder than others."

"Being sick will do that to you. But please don't hide away next time? If I hadn't found you..."

"I asked the doctor, and he said I only have one appendix, so it's not like this can..."

"That's not—"

"I know," she said, dropping the tease from her voice. "And I will. I'll try."

"Thanks." He ruffled her hair. 

Light rushed into the room, and he turned to see a groggy Adora standing silhouetted in the door frame. "Catra?"

"You should be sleeping," Catra responded. "Bow said you fought off two sea monsters today."

"Pfft. I got, like, two hours of sleep already." The yawn that punctuated her sentence did little to help her case. Her brow creased. "Someone should have come to get me, I said I'd stay with you tonight."

"I threatened to shred every pillow in the palace if Glimmer woke you up. Besides, I can..." She glanced up at Micah, and let out a deep breath. "I'm glad you're here. I was having trouble falling asleep without you."

Micah stood, offering the chair to Adora. She looked like she needed it more than he did. She stumbled over, pressed a gentle kiss to Catra's forehead, and sat down. Micah moved towards the door. "Both of you get some rest, okay?"

Adora gave a thumbs up from where she had already face-planted on the mattress.

"Let me know if you two need anything, okay?" He hoped Catra would understand the weight behind his words.

Catra smiled and nodded.

He closed the door behind him.


End file.
